


House of the Rising Sun

by playthegame_1980



Series: Historical AU [1]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: 1880's, All of the boys are bartenders, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brian is soft as fuck, But He Gets Better, Deacy is crazily in love with Veronica, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Forced Prostitution, Freddie is a good friend, I can't write summaries, I have no clue what the fuck I'm doing, I'm a bit obsessed with vintage New Orleans, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Louisiana, M/M, Minor Character Death, New Orleans, Roger and Freddie are awkward making the first move, Roger is in a tough place at the start of this, Texas, Underage Prostitution, Yes some of the boys are British and some aren't, because I couldn't think of anything else to make them, but that's ok, but we're going to deal with it, do i care?, froger - Freeform, houston, no
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-19 04:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29744724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playthegame_1980/pseuds/playthegame_1980
Summary: It's 1880 and Roger has just moved to New Orleans, Louisiana from Houston, Texas after a failed attempt to be a farmer. The only thing wrong with that is, Roger hates New Orleans. Something horrible always happens. When he arrives in New Orleans, he meets three bartenders who become his friends. But what happens when Roger falls in love with one of the bartenders? What happens when Roger has to keep his relationship secret to avoid being criminalized?-Please enjoy!
Relationships: Brian May/Chrissie Mullen, Freddie Mercury & Roger Taylor, Joe Fanelli & Peter "Phoebe" Freestone, John Deacon/Veronica Tetzlaff
Series: Historical AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2186184
Kudos: 6





	House of the Rising Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Can't you tell I love New Orleans?😂 Please tell me what you think in the comments! Leave Kudos if you enjoy!

Houston, Texas, 1880

Well, I got one foot on the platform, the other foot on the train. I’m goin back to New Orleans to wear that ball and chain. Well, there is a house in New Orleans. They call the Rising Sun. And it’s been the ruin of many a poor boy, and God, I know I’m one. -House of the Rising Sun, The Animals

Suitcase, cigarettes, hat, he was ready. Not ready for the change, only ready for the ride. The train was jam-packed with people from the city traveling. Husbands, wives, children, All the same; auras that rolled off of them like sweat. An aura Roger had hoped he would have reached one day.

Roger thought he’d followed the name of the game. He thought he followed what his father and grandfather had done before him. He did exactly what his father had told him to do. His father being a man of great privilege, Roger took his word. He should’ve known that damned bastard told him the fake truth. 

You’ll get rich boy, his father had told him in a moment he was sober. Buy the land, grow the crops, hire the workers, hell you’ll be richer than that goddamn president in office, he told Roger, leaning back and taking a smoke out of his pipe.But here Roger was, in the stuffy train, with those damned wealthy husbands, wives, and children. Smells of roses and cologne swam through the compacted air of the cable car. Roger was drowning in the smells. Wasn’t he Roger Taylor? The son of Michael Taylor? The son of the man who was richer than anyone else from the south? No, it couldn’t be, it could never be him. In a stuffy train with chandeliers and champagne? Never, not Michael’s son.

Rich, yeah right, Roger thought as he examined the residents on the train. Going about their normal lives while Roger’s was paused. He tried to help the people of that hierarchy, but the news about his father hit them, and they never saw Roger the same ever again. Little did those people know what his father did to him, his sister, or his mother.

Roger tried to forget those memories and he focused on the task at hand- his new life in New Orleans. He remembered those trips he made to New Orleans during his teen years. He was never the best teen, never the worst either. But New Orleans always seemed to bring out the worst in him. No matter what happened, no matter who he was with, something always happened. 

Roger never even realized his suitcase was in the middle of the isle. He was pulled out of his thoughts when a privileged family, the patriarch, the father of the family, nearly tripped over Roger’s bag. The man stumbled and used the side of Roger’s booth to keep balance. 

“Keep ya bags to yourself will ya,” the man shouted at Roger with a thick southern accent. Needless to say, people from the Houston area were not the friendliest to Roger or his family. Roger gave the man a glare and then yanked his bag towards himself and closed the door to his booth. The woman of the family looked at Roger with a look of pure hatred. The smallest child, all of 5 years old, gave the most bamboozled look to her mother and father. 

She doesn’t know, Roger thought to himself. She’ll probably never know, just like her mother and father, who have all the money their hearts desire. The money has taken over the hearts of those people on train number 742. They will never understand the hardships of starting over. They will never understand struggle. They will never see the whole truth. They will only ever see the tobacco, the alcohol, the parties, the sex, the fun. They will never know what it’s like to hurt. And when the hurt and the hardships come, they won’t ever know what to do. They’ll only know the tobacco, the alcohol, the parties, the sex, the fun. They’ll only know the easy way out. 

He observed the residents on the train. He observed the neat, extravagant hair from the ladies. He observed the fine suits on the men. He finally observed the children. The children who will never have a chance at living a real, true life. The only things those children will know is money. The dollar signs that light up in their parents’ eyes when those adults lay their hands on those business deals that are signed. 

He comprehended the amount of tobacco they were smoking and the amount of alcohol was being consumed into their doomed souls. The poor waiters kept refilling their drinks with worried looks on their faces. Roger couldn’t blame them. 

“Sir, do you need anything,” a young waiter approached and asked Roger with a distressed expression on his face. 

“No sir, I’m all right,” the blonde replied, then noticing the relaxed look on the waiter's face when he heard he did not have to serve another client. Roger could tell all of the waiters were extremely troubled with the amount of alcohol the people were ingesting. Those waiters really did not want to deal with the drunkenness of the rich on the train tonight. The surprising quietness of the train was broken by a relatively older man, drunk and malicious, yelling at a female waitress,“More champagne, bitch!”

The young waitress walked, just short of running, to the bar of the train and came back with the only thing the bar had left, white wine. She handed it to the older male with a terrified facial expression and shaking hands. The man took one sip of the drink and a snarl formed on his slightly wrinkled face.

“THIS IS NOT WHAT I FUCKING WANTED,” the man screamed in the petite girl’s face. She winced and apologized in such a low voice the only reason why Roger could tell she was talking was because he saw her mouth move. The man yanked her closer to his face by her collar and slapped her face so hard she fell to the floor.

The security finally walked up to the man and escorted the young girl into a small booth in the alcohol smelling cable car. The security members also sat the older man in another seat and explained that he would probably be banned from the train company because of assault. The man looked furious, but he complied with the police.

This is why they never took any of my deals, Roger thought to himself. They just wanted someone who would make them spend the least amount of money so they could spend it on expensive champagne and sex.

Roger distracted himself from the drunk, rich people with a few newspapers he received from New Orleans back in Houston. He was inspecting the job applications that are offered there. If the city had any decent jobs, that could get Roger on his feet, he would take it. He planned on moving to the city, getting a job, maybe a relationship, and then just living his life in the utter misery most lived when they made it to New Orleans.

He also knew about the laws regarding homosexuals in the south, so if he was lucky enough to get a man in his life, he’d have to keep that secret too. However he may just have to hide the true Roger inside, as he had a reputation among girls in New Orleans. Maybe if he was careful enough, he might just be able to hide it until he died. His sexuality may be one of the many things he keeps to himself that will follow him like a shadow to his grave. He read a few of the job listings and they were all vanilla, boring. Roger continued to examine the job listings until he found one that sounded interesting, one that could possibly make his life less miserable. A bartender. 

A bartender, Roger thought. It’s a job that might give Roger something interesting to his future miserable life. A bartender job might be able to help Roger keep up his reputation that he has in New Orleans. 

He decided to shove the newspaper in his suitcase and laid on the seat of his booth. Roger attempted to block out the rowdiness of the sex and alcohol coming from the main cabin. He laid on the seat trying to comprehend what was going to happen, as the move to New Orleans had been a total instantaneous thing. He knew that he was moving, he may never see his mother or sister again, he may never have the same life again. He may never be the same Roger. 

He set his thoughts aside and drifted into his sleep.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roger awoke to the dawn sunlight in his face which then quickly turned to cloudy skies. He had sudden memories of being a three year old, looking out of a window and telling his mother, 

“Mommy, I think that when the sky gets gray, the sky is sad.”

“Well dear, how do you think you can make the sky happy again,” his mother questioned him.

“I think I can give the sky some flowers and it will be happy again,” he cheerfully replied to his mother. 

His mother replied, “We can give the sky some flowers after Mommy finishes cleaning this table, alright honey?” 

‘Yay Mommy! I can’t wait to make the sky happy again,” he cheered to his mother with a smiley face. He ran to his mother and gave her a hug, only being able to hug her legs, as she was standing up. “I love you, Mommy,” he told his mother. Her eyes softened at her young, blue eyed, and blonde little boy and she returned the hug.

“I love you too Roger.”  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He smiled at the thought of his mother, sweet and loving, who supported Roger in anything he ever did in his life. He knew he would desperately miss her when he arrived at New Orleans, but he liked to think he would be able to make frequent visits to her in Houston. If not, he would never be able to forgive himself if he never saw his mother again. He had absolutely no problem never seeing his father again, but his mother and sister? Never, unforgivable.

“Approaching final destination, New Orleans, Louisiana in about 5 miles,” the messengers read aloud to those in the cable car. It was finally happening, Roger was going to be in New Orleans. He never expected his life to take such a drastic change, but maybe it was for the better. 

Finally, the train came to a halt, and Roger peered out of his window at the famous Mississippi River. The river that everyone down in Houston talked about. The river that was repeated in the history books. When René-Robert Cavelier, Sieur de La Salle overshot the river and ended up in Texas, his men ambushed him. The river was relatively quiet at this time during the morning.

The messengers spoke up, “Final destination, New Orleans, Louisiana. All members on the train must exit the train as soon as possible.”

Roger rose from his seat in his booth, picked up his suitcase, swallowed his pride and walked out of the booth. He took one last look at the rich, hungover and sore from the previous night. He took one look at their exhausted faces and snickered to himself. He walked to the front of the cable car and took a deep breath. Roger stepped onto the platform and took a good look at the city. He breathed in the New Orleans air and then exhaled it out. He slowly took steps towards the city.

He just hoped New Orleans wasn’t as bad as he remembered it.

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say? I like angst😂 I apologize for the flashback not being in italics, I have not clue how the fuck to use A03😂😂 I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
